


Squeaky floors and stuck windows

by firehawk05



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 21:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15009701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firehawk05/pseuds/firehawk05
Summary: The Westchester mansion is a sprawling hulk of history, with inspiring views from every window. Fat lot of good that does when said windows are rusted shut. Somewhat crack.





	Squeaky floors and stuck windows

**Author's Note:**

> Erik stuck around after Charles was paralyzed. Mansion probably still has historic creaky fittings.

The Westchester mansion is a sprawling, rambling, elegant hulk of history. Its grey stone walls radiate a quiet dignity, an understated grandeur that is echoed by the heavy oak doors. The ceilings are high and vaulted and the windows on the second floor bedrooms offer an inspiring view of the surrounding grounds. 

 

_ What good is an inspiring view when the blasted things are all rusted shut?   _ Erik projects, his thoughts spiky with irritation. 

 

Charles looks on in amusement. His legs are tucked decorously under the sheets and he’s surrounded himself with a veritable nest of pillows. Reclining thus in the gigantic king-sized canopy bed, he also gives the distinct impression that for him at least, moving to help was never going to be an option. 

 

_ I did warn you old friend. And you could actually just use the door. Instead of persisting in this … sneaky skullduggery... _

 

_ If I blow an aneurysm straining out here it will be your fault Xavier… _

 

_ Oh don’t be so dramatic. Try the one to your right.  _

 

Erik sighs and flexes his fingers. 

 

The window slides open with just the faintest creak.  

 

_ I got Hank in with a can of oil earlier.  _ Charles smiles smugly, just as said window grates to a halt about halfway up. 

 

Erik shoots him a frustrated glare.  A stare which merely elicits a helpless shrug from the occupant of the bed. 

 

_ Not my problem, Erik. I’m sure you can fix it.  _

 

The window frame groans ominously as Erik worms his way through the tiny gap.  Then, just as he sets a booted foot in the room, the floorboards squeak loudly in protest. Both of them freeze instantly, listening. 

 

Erik glares at Charles, who has the courtesy to look abashed, before levitating himself to the bed, removing his boots and diving under the sheets. 

 

A few pillows are unceremoniously flung to the floor as he tunnels upwards, even as he continues to grumble about sticky windows and creaky floorboards. 

 

_ I would like to point out that the floorboards work quite well as a burglar alarm. And there are fewer mosquitos and other … pests... If I keep the windows closed.  _

 

There’s breathless pause. A sensation of weight. And then…

 

_ Pest?  You’ll pay for that.  _

 

_ I think I have an advantage here. After all, THAT doesn’t work the same way anymore.  _

 

A hand snakes upwards, slipping under the thin nightshirt. 

 

_ Arrgh Erik. You horrible horrible man.  _

 

The hand circles. Teases.  And then. Tweaks its target. 

 

Charles shudders convulsively, biting hard on his lip. A chorus of thuds, squeaks and groans from the corridor outside signals the imminent arrival of...

 

_ Someone’s coming.  Stop that. This instant.  _

 

Erik sends him a thought that clearly suggests that stopping was never an option.  

 

Is everything alright Professor? Hank calls from just outside the room, concern dripping off every syllable. 

 

_ Erik. I’m going to ... And it will be your fault.  _

 

_ Not my problem Charles. Sort it out yourself.  _

 

Charles bites back a moan. He chews his lip, trying to calm himself. Then he takes a deep breath and says as calmly as he can. 

 

Yes Hank. I’m good. Thank you. 

 

_ More than good.  _

 

A particularly intense image of what Erik is doing under the sheets makes him bite his fist to stifle a gasp. 

 

Good night Hank. 

 

_ Good boy Charles.  _

 

_ Gah. Shut up.  _

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Haunted Mansion (Squeaky Floors and Stuck Windows Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15282348) by [IreneADonovan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneADonovan/pseuds/IreneADonovan)




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